Mexicans of the Old Republic II: The Drug Lords
by Hadriel
Summary: Looking for a safe stance on the balance of the Force? Me neither. Prepare yourself for the greatest, or at least the most ludicrous, adventure into philosophy you'll ever read and hopefully leave a review of!


**Star Wars**

**Mexicans of the Old Republic II: The Drug Lords**

Story Summary: This is an attempt at a full-length parody of the fantastic Star Wars game Knights of the Old Republic II: The Sith Lords! Follow the adventures of the Jedi exile Jimmus Jagorwank in his quest to restore (peace, chaos, circle one) to the galaxy! Oh, and to get some bitches. Can't forget the bitches.

Disclaimers: First of all, this section is going to be pretty long and unfortunately dry, since there are a lot of things I have to say beforehand, mainly to cover my ass against bitchy parents and big shot executives. The first is that I don't own Star Wars and that this story is entirely nonprofit and written to amuse people, and under the Fair Use Act I have every right to take KOTOR 2's storyline and butcher it in any way I see fit. This is pretty obvious, of course. In addition, any references to other works, regardless of medium, are the property of their respective owners and I take no credit for them. If you feel that you are being in any way slighted, let me know and I will attempt to rectify it, though I don't think that'll be a problem.

This story does not actually have too much to do with Mexicans, nor am I racist. I came up with it based on a brief conversation after a band dance one night. I'm also just a hopeless moron in Texas with no connection to Lucasfilm aside from the fact that I talked to Mike Stackpole and Matt Stover a couple of times at conventions and forums. Which, besides cluing you in on the fact that I'm a connoisseur of the Star Wars EU, is pretty lame.

(hears snickers about forum people)

YOU GO TO HELL! YOU GO TO HELL AND YOU DIE!

(clears throat)

Anyway, this story is rated R for sexual humor, excessive violence,_profuse_ amounts of cumfucking profanity, and general depravity that you should not read if you have an IQ over 40. Under FFN site rules, according to my judgment this barely slides by with an M, and only because there aren't any blatantly pornographic scenes in the story. However, there is some comic nudity and some places where it comes close.To that end, by opening this story you legally agree that I am in no way, shape or form responsible for your psyche after you read this or ANY STUPID SHIT you do as a result. Anyone with an IQ above that of your average piece of fecal matter can discern what qualifies as "stupid shit."Also, you shouldn't read this if you're either not 18 or can't handle the kind of stuff this story deals in.If you're a parent and your kid reads this and sets himself on fire or something, readthis paragraph over and over and over again.It's the same as all the cunt parents complaining about violence and sex in games; you bought it for them, dumbshits.

Acknowledgements: This is where I list all the people that have helped me in various ways. It's good practice for when I write in the future, and for other speeches, such as the one I hope to give in Stockholm someday for doing awesome physics shit.

Other than myself, the primary editing credit goes to MortimerNerdly of as well as to a lesser extent the rest of the crew of Yuuzhan'tar: The Yuuzhan Vong Homeworld for helping me when I got stuck on this. They're a great bunch of people, and are all intelligent and prolific…when they feel like it. :p

Additional editing credit and moral support appreciation goes to my best friend Drew. Imagine any movie that focuses on two best friends and involves Star Wars in some way. This is what our life is like – you'll be able to see this in the story.

Another bit of props I wish to dole out goes to ZeaLitY, the owner of Chrono Compendium, the Internet's premiere Chrono Trigger website, for coming up with the protagonist's name and helping in various capacities, as well as just being a kickass dude and website manager. Look me up on it as Hadriel if you want to talk Chrono and/or Squaresoft.

The final writing credit I can think of is directed toward God, regardless of whether God exists or not. Mega props for all the food for thought.

For moral support, I would like to give credit to my parents. Unfortunately, I can't, because they don't approve of this type of story. So fuck that. Instead, I'll give some of it to John, a guy that lives 30 minutes away but that I've somehow never met. He's always got a creative and funny spin on life.

For pioneering the general style in which this story is written, Trey Parker, Matt Stone, George Carlin, Robin Williams, Douglas Adams, and the infamous Maddoxall deserve credit. I'll be lucky if this turns out to be half as funny and insightful as anything they've written.

Shigeru Miyamoto deserves credit not only for creating the videogame industry singlehandedly, but also for providing me with a large amount of my background, and by extension artistic outlook.

The staff members at LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian all deserve thanks for conceiving and executing the game series upon which this is based, as well as for many other fine games.

The authors and consultants of the Star Wars Expanded Universe are owed a major debt of gratitude for carrying on the saga after the void following the release of Return of the Jedi and making both the prequel trilogy and KOTOR possible. Of special note are Timothy Zahn, Matt Stover, Jim Luceno, and Dr. Curtis Saxton.

Finally, George Lucas himself of course deserves mad props for creating Star Wars. Say what you will about his dialogue, but he's one of the few entertainers that actually managed to directly influence a culture's sociopolitical development. Star Wars rocks, plain and simple. And contrary to what some people say, it's not dead. Oh, no…it's not dead at all. It's only just begun.

So, without further ado, you can watch me trip all over myself trying to establish a mood for this, because Force knows you're all sick of reading this. ;)

* * *

Character Creation Screen

NAME: Some Puerto Rican Guy AKA Jimmus Jagorwank

RACE: Average Puerto Rican race

AGE: Average Puerto Rican age

HEIGHT: Average Puerto Rican height

WEIGHT: Average Puerto Rican weight

SEX: All the time

CHARACTER CLASS: ADHD-Afflicted Jedi Consular

ATTRIBUTES: Strength 20, Dexterity 20, Constitution 20, Intelligence 20, Wisdom 16, Charisma 20, Math Comprehension 0

FEATS: Rapid Shot, Critical Strike, Flurry, Steal Speeder, Steal Freighter, Steal Battle Cruiser

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…

STAR WARS

Mexicans of the Old Republic II: The Drug Lords

It is a dark time for the galaxy. As usual. When the fuck is it ever NOT a dark time for the galaxy? Never. Otherwise we wouldn't have a story, y'know what I'm sayin'? Wait, I was supposed to be telling a story here. Right. Yeah. I was getting to that. Will somebody pass me a fucking blunt? No? WELL FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU STAN, AND FUCK YOU KYLE, AND FUCK YOU KENNY!

…Bebe, you're still cool.

Anyway, it's been like ten years or so since the Jedi Master **_REVAN_** ended the Mandalorian Wars at Malachor V and generally fucked up the place. Thanks a lot, dumbass. You just screwed the Republic out of billions of credits in tourism revenue. Five years passed after that, and then **_REVAN _**and **_MALAK_** fucked up the Republic. Or so we thought. Turns out maybe they didn't fuck up the Republic as bad as we thought. Or at least **_REVAN_** didn't…is that joke getting old yet? Yes? OK, fine, you asshole, have it your way. Anyway, as the Republic recovers from the war…wait, the title music's almost done? Oh, shit, I'd better finish!

So the Republic recovers and this one dumbass goes to Peragus on the Ebon Hawk. Whew. Take five, everybody. Smoke if ya got 'em.

_**Prologue: Every Time a PS2 Loads, the Force Kills a Kitten**_

Narrator Voice: The _Ebon Hawk _got assraped in some kind of battle. You, T3-M4, are the last hope for its survival. You must reactivate the power core to dock at the Peragus facility for repairs.

T3: Beep bleep. (Fuck that.)

(The ship crashes into an asteroid and blows up.)

LOADING…

STAR WARS: MEXICANS OF THE OLD REPUBLIC II - THE DRUG LORDS

LOAD AUTOSAVE…

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…

STAR WARS

Mexicans of the Old Republic II: The Drug Lords

It is a dark time for the galaxy. As usual. When the fuck is it ever NOT a dark time for the galaxy? Never. Otherwise we wouldn't have a story, y'know what I'm sayin'? Wait, I was supposed to be telling a story here. Right. Yeah. I was getting to that. Will somebody pass me a fucking blunt? No? WELL FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU STAN, AND FUCK YOU KYLE, AND FUCK YOU KENNY!

…Bebe, you're still cool.

Anyway, it's been like ten years or so since the Jedi Master **_REVAN_** ended the Mandalorian Wars at Malachor V and generally fucked up the place. Thanks a lot, dumbass. You just screwed the Republic out of billions of credits in tourism revenue. Five years passed after that, and then **_REVAN _**and **_MALAK_** fucked up the Republic. Or so we thought. Turns out maybe they didn't fuck up the Republic as bad as we thought. Or at least **_REVAN_** didn't…is that joke getting old yet? Yes? OK, fine, you asshole, have it your way. Anyway, as the Republic recovers from the war…wait, the title music's almost done? Oh, shit, I'd better finish!

So the Republic recovers and this one dumbass goes to Peragus on the Ebon Hawk. Whew. Take five, everybody. Smoke if ya got 'em.

Prologue: Every Time a PS2 Loads, the Force Kills a Kitten

Narrator Voice: The _Ebon Hawk _got assraped in some kind of battle. You, T3-M4, are the last hope for its survival. You must reactivate the power core to dock at the Peragus facility for repairs.

T3: Beep beep bleep do-weoo! (Goddammit, not again.)

Narrator: Look, do you want to get on with the damn game or not?

T3: (sigh) Deet blarg murglefrack.

Narrator: That's a good little droid. Now then, the _Ebon Hawk _got assraped, like I said before, probably by the giant cock of the Sith. But that'll be explained later in lengthy and verbose cutscenes. Your job for now, and the only thing for which you have any real significance in this game, is to get this ship to Peragus by fixing the engine.

T3: Deet. (Fine.)

(door opens)

Narrator: This is the cockpit access tunnel. In there is the communication room, in which you will find a conveniently placed computer spike with which to open the door into the main hold. Out the window to your left is Tommy Lee Jones.

T3: (opens door) Bah-ram-u, bah-ram-u. (Bah-ram-u, bah-ram-u.)

Narrator: …riiiiight. Anyway, in the main hold there are a bunch of dead bodies. Now it's time for you to learn some of the key concepts of RPGs.

T3: BREET-BLAG! (But I was in the first game! Shouldn't I be learning how to mercilessly annihilate every enemy in my path?)

Narrator: You're two feet tall.

T3: SQUAWK! (So's Yoda, and he made people piss their pants in AOTC! Even R2D2 has a body count! )

Narrator: If you make one more good point, I'll destroy this ship and make you have to reload again.

T3: Deet. Braack. (Fine…Fucker.)

Narrator: I heard that.

(The ship self destructs.)

LOADING…

STAR WARS: MEXICANS OF THE OLD REPUBLIC II – THE DRUG LORDS

LOAD AUTOSAVE…

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…

STAR WARS

Mexicans of the Old Republic II: The Drug Lords

It is a dark time for the galaxy. As usual. When the fuck is it ever NOT a dark time for the galaxy? Never. Otherwise we wouldn't have a story, y'know what I'm sayin'? Wait, I was supposed to be telling a story here. Right. Yeah. I was getting to that. Will somebody pass me a fucking blunt? No? WELL FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU STAN, AND FUCK YOU KYLE, AND FUCK YOU KENNY!

…Bebe, you're still cool.

Anyway, it's been like ten years or so since the Jedi Master **_REVAN_** ended the Mandalorian Wars at Malachor V and generally fucked up the place. Thanks a lot, dumbass. You just screwed the Republic out of billions of credits in tourism revenue. Five years passed after that, and then **_REVAN _**and **_MALAK_** fucked up the Republic. Or so we thought. Turns out maybe they didn't fuck up the Republic as bad as we thought. Or at least **_REVAN_** didn't…is that joke getting old yet? Yes? OK, fine, you asshole, have it your way. Anyway, as the Republic recovers from the war…wait, the title music's almost done? Oh, shit, I'd better finish!

So the Republic recovers and this one dumbass goes to Peragus on the Ebon Hawk. Whew. Take five, everybody. Smoke if ya got 'em.

_Prologue: Every Time a PS2 Loads, the Force Kills a Kitten_

Narrator Voice: The _Ebon Hawk _got assraped in some kind of battle. You, T3-M4, are the last hope for its survival. You must reactivate the power core to dock at the Peragus facility for repairs.

T3: SQUEEK SQUARK GAG PUKE QUARK VOMIT! (That wasn't a good point, that was an insult, goddamn you!)

Narrator: Same thing.

T3: BJORK QORL NARNURGH! (Could you try to inconvenience me a little more, numbnuts?)

Narrator: Watch your mouth.

T3: Broip fargleflarg! (You don't care when I say "fuck" but you take exception to "numbnuts"?)

Narrator: I have my reasons. Now fix the damn ship.

T3: …brapp. (…they don't pay me enough for this shit.) (does all the shit he did before up to the main hold)

Narrator: Now, as I was saying before you had to reset the game, you need to learn some basic RPG mechanisms, the first of which is stealing everything in sight, even if it's right in front of its owner. Here, take some of these classic examples:

(The holoscreen begins showing footage from different games.)

Narrator: Here, in the classic adventure _The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time,_ Link is shown stealing medical supplies and money from the house of his lifelong friend, Saria. And here, in the Squaresoft RPG _Chrono Trigger, _the protagonist, Crono, of the Earth year 1000 A.D., is seen looting Guardia Castle.

(Crono opens the Lavos box in the tower and finds the Blue Mail.)

T3: …bleet braff whiggleboppet? (The hearts I could deal with. The pot chopping, I could deal with. But…why do people have spiked hairdos? Who are these people?)

Narrator: Oh, boy, are you in for some pain later on.

T3: …beep? (…what?)

Narrator: Never mind. Just check the old hag's corpse for stuff. Fundamental RPG rule.

T3: (checks Kreia for stuff, and finds a walkthrough for the game and a $4000 gift certificate to Wal-Mart)

Narrator: Whoops, you weren't supposed to find that. Must have been another bug.

T3: Beep wheedle-doo? (How many other bugs got by the programmers?)

Narrator: Maybe five, six…

T3: ...beep boodle. (…I guess I could live with that.)

Narrator: …bugs per department, thirty-something departments…

T3: …balls. (…balls.)

Narrator: Don't worry – they'll come in handy later.

T3: Beep ba-doot doot. (I'll take your word for it. As if I had a choice.)

Narrator: Exactly. Now you can use the lift in the next room to get outside of the ship.

T3: (does it)

Narrator: Ooh, you're in space now. Peragus is so pretty from here, ain't it?

T3: …

Narrator: IT'S PRETTY, GODDAMN YOU!

T3: Doot, doot! (All right, all right!)

Narrator: Now then. You can steal mines and parts and stuff and use them to fix the engine.

T3: (steals mines and parts and stuff, goes back inside, and uses them to fix the engine)

Narrator: Good job, T3. Now you just have one task left. You need to stabilize some Puerto Rican guy in the docking bay so this whole trip won't be for shit.

T3: (goes to sickbay and stabilizes some Puerto Rican guy)

Narrator: Awesome! You've completed the Prologue! Now get to Peragus and get the hell off this ship so I can smoke a blunt.

T3: (sets course for Peragus)

HK-50: Statement: Hasta la vista, baby! (starts shooting randomly)

_Ebon Hawk: _(docks)

Things onboard the _Ebon Hawk:_ (explode)

…Time passes…

…More time passes…

…aww, hell, this deserves a chapter break.

Author's Notes: This section will be at the end of every chapter. It lists references and important notes. Beyond the names ones in Zelda and Chrono Trigger, the chapter contained extensive references to South Park and one to Babe, or as my mom calls it, "the pig movie."

Also, every single reference to Terran popular culture will be explained in Chapter 3. Anyway, this is Hadriel signing out; may the Force be with y'all. Fo'real.


End file.
